“Well, I do apologize. Truly.”
“You don’t need to keep your head down like that,” she said, and there was a gentleness in her tone that he had rarely heard in their conversations in the past. “I’m decent now, and I’m happy to see you. I’m glad you came to my room tonight, Arthur.”
He looked up at her.
She looked so beautiful and vulnerable like this, clad in nothing but the thin cotton of her nightgown, the moonlight on her face. He felt drawn to her, more deeply so than he ever had before. It was an ache now, a hunger. He wanted to take her in his arms, hold her body against his, allow himself to relish in the feel of her. And the absolute torment of it was that there was no reason he couldn’t do that. They were married. It was beyond permitted—it wasexpectedthat they would have an intimate physical relationship with one another. And he knew she wished it, for she had asked him numerous times why he hadn’t come to her on their wedding night. She had even sought him out.
The only thing holding him back was his own reservations. His own knowledge that he didn’t want anything to distract him from his life’s purpose. He had to focus on finding the people responsible for his parents’ deaths—that was what mattered most. He couldn’t afford to take time away from that mission to focus on anything else. Not even on this.
He cleared his throat. “I came to check on you,” he said. “To see whether you were all right.”
“I’m fine.” She frowned. “Did you have reason to think I wouldn’t be?”
Now he felt a little foolish. He had really talked himself into the idea that something might be the matter with her—but what had he based it on? The fact that she had been slightly taken aback upon meeting Aunt Olivia? Who wouldn’t have been? Arthurhad been a bit perturbed himself because Aunt Olivia simply hadn’t been expected. It wasn’t a bad thing, of course, but it made perfect sense that Isabella had been thrown by it.
And she had recovered quickly. That couldn’t be denied. Hadn’t she devoted herself almost at once to the idea of attending the Manford ball? She couldn’t be too troubled if she was looking forward to that.
He recognized an excuse he could use for his determination to come and check on her, even though he was aware as he said it that it wasn’t something she was truly upset about. “I wanted to see how you were feeling about the Manford ball,” he said. “My aunt made those arrangements so quickly and without really stopping to see how anyone else was feeling. I know that you said you wanted to attend, and you certainly may if that’s truly what you want. But I did want to make sure you weren’t feeling as though you had been backed into a corner about it.”
“Not at all,” she assured him. “I’ve always dreamed of attending a ball without feeling as if I was under my father’s thumb. He allowed me to go to them, but I was always expected to report on everything I had seen and done, and if I left anything out, I could count on my half-sister to fill in the gaps for me. Father was so strict that I never felt as if I was able to really enjoy myself at any balls or parties. It will be nice to attend one where that’s not the case.”
“I see,” Arthur said. He hadn’t realized that was the way her life had been though perhaps he should have—her father had made no secret of the fact that he considered her less thanequal because of the circumstances of her birth. “Well, I’m glad to know that your desire to attend the ball is genuine. I would have hated to learn that you felt under some sort of obligation to attend.”
“Oh, no,” she said earnestly, looking up at him. “I know that isn’t something you would require of me.”
He moved farther into the room, approaching the window seat.
“You can sit down,” she said quietly. “I mean, if you want to. You can join me. The stars are beautiful tonight.”
He nodded and took a seat beside her on the window seat. It was small, not really made for two people, and he wondered whether this was the nearest they had ever been to one another. It might have been, given that they hadn’t danced together at their wedding. He wouldn’t have had to reach out, even, if he had wished to touch her—she was right there within his reach.
She gazed out at the night sky. “It’s lovely, isn’t it?”
“It is,” he agreed, but he wasn’t looking at the sky.
His heart pounded. This wasn’t what he had come in here for. His intent had been to make sure she was all right, nothing more.
At least, that was what he had told himself. But was that really true? Now that he was here, he had to admit that there hadn’tbeen any real reason to believe shewasn’tall right. He was starting to feel as if that was just an excuse he had made to give himself permission to come and see her past the hour when they usually would have said good night to one another.
She turned away from the window and caught him looking at her before he was able to look away.
A blush colored her cheeks. She started to look away from him, but suddenly, Arthur found that he didn’t want her to. His hand came up—almost of its own accord, he certainly hadn’t planned to do this—and cupped her cheek, keeping her head turned toward him.
Still, she could have dropped her gaze—he would have been able to do nothing to prevent that—but she didn’t. Instead, she allowed herself to look him in the eye.
He could tell by the look he saw there that she knew he hadn’t genuinely feared for her well-being. Perhaps she had known that before he had realized it himself. She understood that whatever had led him here had been something else altogether. And that was a thought that frightened her as much as it did him.
He cleared his throat and rose from the window seat. “I shouldn’t stay,” he said.
She nodded in agreement. “I’ll see you for breakfast tomorrow, though?”
“Yes, I’ll be there,” he said. “As always. And Aunt Olivia will join us as well.”
“I do look forward to getting to know her better.” She met his eyes once more. “It’s a rare person who can bring out such relaxation in you, Arthur. I’m eager to discover what her secret is.”
That made Arthur nervous—though, of course, as far as he knew, his aunt had no particular secret and had simply been dealing with him kindly, treating him as her own son. Could there be more to it?
Oh, what was he so worried about? There was nothing here for Isabella to discover.
